


all the blossoms come sailing down

by drfitzmonster



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Cultural Differences, F/F, Medusa!Lena, Presents, Secret Admirer, adorable misunderstandings, cryptid AU, gorgon!Lena, monster au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22788229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drfitzmonster/pseuds/drfitzmonster
Summary: Lena is just your normal, everyday gorgon, living in the woods minding her own business, until a foolhardy secret admirer starts leaving garbage on her doorstep.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 81
Kudos: 540
Collections: Supercorp Content Creators' Guild Valentine's Day Exchange 2020





	all the blossoms come sailing down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpicyCheese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyCheese/gifts).



> For my spicy and amazing friend Sam, I am so happy I had the opportunity to write for you! Happy belated vday and congrats on being awesome! 💜💜💜
> 
> Spoilers in the end notes, just FYI

The first time it happened Lena was caught completely off guard. She’d just finished feeding her babies and they were peacefully napping, curled around her head and neck. As she stepped outside her cabin to go for her regular evening stroll, she almost tripped over a towering stack of rocks that had been placed on her doorstep.

Lena might have appreciated the aesthetic qualities of the round, flat river stones stacked neatly and gradually decreasing in size and lightening in color, were they not directly in her way and had she not floundered ungracefully trying to catch her balance and woken her babies, who hissed their displeasure.

“It’s ok, darlings,” she cooed at them. “We’re ok. It’s just some rocks.”

Who would put _rocks_ on her doorstep?

She hadn’t seen a human in quite a while, especially since she’d begun lining the unfortunate up on the edge of her land, a monument to their foolishness and a warning to any would-be trespassers.

She was certain they’d learned their lesson by now, but it seemed she had another on her hands. She didn’t relish killing them, but sometimes it was unavoidable. It wasn’t her fault that humans turned to stone when they looked her in the eye.

Her cabin was remote enough that people didn’t just stumble upon it. They had to be looking for it. She’d had a few odd idiots over the years who’d got it into their heads that they could kill her or capture her, and they all met the same fate, as would this rock stacker if they came back again.

It was a far cry from an assasination attempt, but a nuisance nonetheless, one that upset her babies, which is why she wouldn’t be particularly heartbroken if she ended up with another addition to her statue garden.

 _Humans_. So arrogant, presumptuous, stupid, drawn to death like a moth to a flame. Build a cabin in the woods just to keep away from them and what do they do? Follow her there. She shook her head, sweeping the rocks off her porch with a broom. Hopefully they wouldn’t be back.

She rose the next morning, after a fitful night’s sleep. She and her babies were restless, and they were resistant to her attempts to calm them, even after they’d been fed. Two of them kept striking at each other and she had to separate them physically, which was awkward considering they were permanently installed right next to each other.

“Please, my loves,” she implored, pulling them apart gently, “you know I hate it when you quarrel like this, and you know I need my hands, especially if you want to continue eating according to your regular schedule. Can you please behave for me?”

They did seem to settle after a few minutes of encouragement, and Lena was able to go about her routine. She made a cup of tea, drinking it slowly, and then read a few chapters of a book she’d read so many times she knew it by heart. Sighing, she put it down on the table, glancing up at her front door.

It was time for her mid-morning walk around her land, to confirm the sanctity of the perimeter and check to see if her snares had borne fruit. If she were lucky they would yield a couple of fat rabbits for herself and her babies.

Lena stalled as long as she could bear, pacing the floor and grumbling to herself. Every once and a while one of her babies would raise their head and hiss. They were upset by her anxiety, the poor dears. She released another, this time much deeper sigh, and finally reached for the doorknob.

She just needed to get it over with. After a three count she flung the door open, and immediately slammed it shut again.

There were _two_ this time. **Two**.

She picked up her teacup and hurled it into the fireplace with a frustrated growl.

Why would someone do that? What was their game? If they wanted to kill her why not just get it over with? Why toy with her? She just didn’t understand.

She stomped onto her porch and unceremoniously kicked both stacks of rocks over.

“You must have seen my garden of idiots!” Lena shouted into the trees, her babies rearing up from their resting positions against her neck. “I strongly encourage you to move along, unless you’d like to join them!”

And then she slammed the door again.

The next day brought three precarious towers of rocks, although these were inverted, with the smallest rocks near the bottom. She had no idea how they were balanced. They seemed to defy gravity altogether, but when she kicked them and the rocks clattered down to the ground it was obvious that they were just as subject to the laws of physics as anything else.

She tried repeatedly to stay up all night and catch the human in the act, but she would inevitably fall asleep, sometimes for a span as short as five minutes. Every time she opened her door they had already come and gone.

She just didn’t understand how.

They left an arch made of flat pieces of ice wedged together, a mound of stones that gradually shifted in color from dark gray at the bottom to a deep red-brown at its zenith, and a spiral made of pebbles cracked right through the middle.

Lena made a show of destroying them all, even as they became increasingly elaborate, even after they moved from rocks to arrangements of leaves in all sorts of colorful patterns pleasing to the eye. She indiscriminately swept away concentric circles of leaves shifting from spring green in the center to fiery autumn red around the outside, spirals and serpentine curls of green leaves across a background of bright yellow, and contrasting patterns of gentle gradients that gave the illusion of depth.

She ruined every single one day after day, until one morning she unknowingly altered the course of her relationship with the stranger who insisted on leaving detritus on her doorstep.

The object Lena found that day was shaped like a ram’s horn, but it was crafted from nothing but leaves sewn together with green stems and pine needles. It was delicately constructed, hollow on the inside, but sturdy enough to be handled. It was so light in her hands, so fragile, she couldn’t bring herself to destroy it.

It was beautiful and clearly took a great deal of time and effort to fashion, as did everything else that had been left on her doorstep. She sighed as a sudden wave of guilt washed over her. She’d been so quick to condemn all of the constructions that really were quite exquisite.

Instead of destroying it like she’d done to all the others, she took it inside. She couldn’t smash it, so she put it on her table and stared at it, like if she looked at it long enough she would be able to figure out who was hanging around her cabin and why they wouldn’t stop leaving her strange things.

She stared at the leaf horn for most of the day. She took breaks to eat, to walk her land, to make a cup of tea, to bask in the sun although she could no longer nap freely knowing someone was out there. At the end of the day, when it was so late she could no longer keep her eyes open to stare, she acquiesced and crawled into bed.

The horn had revealed none of its secrets, instead simply taunting her from across the room. It would still be there in the morning. And she would have another little something, maybe even another sculpture of sewn leaves, waiting for her as well.

The next morning she opened the door, for once eager to see what sort of improbable thing had been left for her during the night, but this time there was none. She stepped outside and looked around, wondering if perhaps it was suspended from a tree branch or otherwise ensconced nearby, to no avail.

After all those days, they just stopped. Why? She didn’t understand.

She sat at the table and cried. She hadn’t realized how quickly she’d grown accustomed to the gifts that had been left for her each morning. That’s what they were. Gifts. Not garbage at all. They were beautiful and she’d destroyed every single one.

Maybe when she woke the next day there would be another.

She was wrong. Each successive day she lost a little more hope, felt more despair in her heart, until she couldn’t take it anymore. She stood outside her cabin, yelling into the trees as she had done before.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I did wrong, but please just come out! My eyes are closed. I promise I won’t petrify you, just... where did you go?”

Silence.

She waited for what seemed like an interminable amount of time, and had resigned herself to the fact that whoever it was had left for good, when she sensed something closeby.

Some _one_. She felt the heat radiating off them, the vibrations of their footsteps as they approached her, but her babies were strangely becalmed. That was... abnormal.

Everything about this was abnormal.

“I’m right here,” a deep voice said, and then a warm hand gently cupped her cheek.

It was startling, and she leaned into the stranger’s touch despite herself.

“Open your eyes.”

“No,” Lena said plaintively. “You don’t understand. I can’t control it.”

“I know, but it’s going to be ok. Just trust me?”

The rumbling voice was so disarming Lena found herself unable to protest. “Cover your eyes,” she said, and as a final warning, added, “No peeking.”

The hand disappeared. “Ok.”

Lena was not at all prepared for what she saw when she opened her eyes. “ _Oh_. You’re not... wow...”

The figure dropped her hands from her face, letting out a baritone chuckle. “No, I’m not.”

And she certainly was not, not by a longshot. While she did appear vaguely humanoid, she was bigger, more broad, much stouter and more solid than a human, and taller. Her limbs were thick and well-muscled, which was readily apparent, even beneath a thick coat of dark brown fur.

“What are you?”

“Humans like to call me a bigfoot.”

“What do _you_ like to be called?”

“Just my name. Just Kara.”

“Kara. That’s very pretty.”

“It is pretty when you say it.” Kara ducked her head sheepishly. “What is your name?”

“My name is Lena.”

“Lena...” she repeated fondly. “It is a good name.” She reached out and took Lena’s hand in her own.

Kara’s hand was almost comically larger than Lena’s, but it felt so good to hold. Everything about this felt good. Even her babies, who were curiously inspecting Kara’s free, outstretched hand, seemed to think so. They were normally hostile to changes and new things and any other living creature that ever got within ten feet of Lena.

So why were they being so friendly now?

She looked up at Kara, who smiled softly at her, showing her just a flash of a sharp canine. She was _handsome_ , with a square jaw and startlingly clear blue eyes. It had been so long since she’d seen anything but pure terror in someone’s eyes that she’d forgotten what it was like. She’d missed it, as much as she was loath to admit.

“Why did you stop?”

“You told me to.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

Kara sighed. “I apologize for upsetting you. I stopped because you kept the object. In my culture, it means you have acknowledged my advances, and you have seen enough to decide whether or not you will allow me to speak with you. I was waiting for you to signal your acceptance or rejection.”

“ _Oh_. I thought you’d gotten tired of me destroying all the beautiful things you made.”

“Lena, those were never intended to last. Things die, they decay, they change and transform. The act of creation is the important part. I was not giving you a _thing_. I was giving you time. The time it took me to collect all those rocks and and leaves and place them just so. When you swept away what I made, it meant you wanted me to give you more, and I was happy to do it. I _am_ happy to do it. I would give you anything, Lena.”

“You would?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“I did this all wrong, didn’t I?”

Kara frowned. “No, of course not,” she said, drawing Lena in close. “You did everything perfectly.”

“How can you say that? I made you wait so long.”

“Yes, but I am a very patient creature. I would have waited far longer. So you see? Everything you did led us right to here.”

“Where is here?”

“That, Lena, is entirely up to you.”

“Oh, ok. In that case... Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea?”

“I would love to.” Kara bent forward, bringing Lena’s hand to her mouth to kiss her knuckles tenderly. “Although,” she added, looking toward Lena’s cabin, “I might have a little bit of trouble fitting through the door.”

**Author's Note:**

> I did not tag this story with bigfoot!Kara bc that's supposed to be a fun surprise at the end.
> 
> Also, all of the rock and leaf arrangements that Kara leaves for Lena are based on works by artist Andy Goldsworthy. 
> 
> Find me @drfitzmonster on [tumblr](https://drfitzmonster.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/drfitzmonster)


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